'Blackfish' takes a candid, bloody look at SeaWorld

August 17, 2013|Scott Maxwell, TAKING NAMES

SeaWorld is freaking out. And understandably so.

The images in the new documentary "Blackfish" are downright harrowing.

One trainer is crushed between two killer whales. Another's arm is bitten, fractured to the point it's visibly disfigured. Yet another is nearly drowned. Pent-up whales bloody each other. One dies. And you see the final moments of one trainer's life before a whale ended it.

There you have it, kiddies. Now everyone run to the gift shop for your Shamu dolls!

You can see the problem here — and why SeaWorld took the unusually aggressive step of blasting the film, trying to influence movie critics before the film even arrived in theaters.

It shatters the carefully crafted image that it's all sunshine and smiles in the world of whale captivity.

And that's probably OK.

It also shouldn't be a surprise.

When you mix giant animals with people, bad things are bound to happen.

And when you put creatures used to swimming 100 miles a day inside a concrete tank, they aren't going to live the same normal, healthy lives. Some of them will die. Some will be sick. Some will demonstrate warped behavior.

In fact, the most disturbing message in "Blackfish" doesn't really involve the trainers — who must know there are risks to jumping in the tank with a 10,000-pound mammal whose natural instinct is to chomp sea lions in half.

The more compelling take-away involves the grisly effects of captivity on the whales — the injuries, the sickness, the death, and even the bloody battles between animals forced to live together in small spaces.

Deep down, I think SeaWorld knows it needs to change.

Heck, my sixth-grade son knows this.

On Monday, he spent the day at SeaWorld. On Monday night, I showed him "Blackfish." (No one ever said growing up in my house was easy.)

He watched with wide eyes; mama whales wailing in grief when their babies were taken, and trapped whales fighting, even killing each other because they had no space to swim away.

Afterward, I asked my son what he thought.

"Really, I mainly like riding the roller coasters," he replied. "Maybe they should just do more of that."

They already are. SeaWorld now promotes its thrill rides as much as its animals. Experiences like Journey to Atlantis and the Kraken and Manta coasters aren't just novel additions. They're part of a master plan — an evolution.

And much of what the park has evolved into is very good.

Just take it from my son.Right after he bemoaned the small holding pens for such extraordinary beasts, he added that he still thought SeaWorld was a fun place — one that "does a lot of good stuff, too."

And he's right. SeaWorld does some seriously good deeds.

The company is involved in major charitable endeavors for this community. It has rescue programs that save animal lives. It employs many great people and some genuine conservationists.

And it does a good job of weaving messages of conservation and environmentalism through its parks, opening the eyes of many visitors who wouldn't otherwise hear such messages.

But here's the thing: SeaWorld does not exist to serve animals or protect the environment.

It exists to make money. Period.

Its primary purpose is to get you to fork over $92 to walk through the gates, $12 for a parking space, $9 for a hamburger, $9 for a refillable soda mug and $20 for a Turtle Trek T-shirt.

If you want to help a conservation effort, try the World Wide Fund for Nature. Or the Humane Society. Or any of dozens of other nonprofits whose sole reason for existing is caring for animals.

But don't kid yourself into thinking that watching a sea lion act like a pirate is some sort of altruistic endeavor.

SeaWorld is what it is. There are good parts to it. And there are bad. The company is neither evil, as the filmmakers might have you believe, nor angelic, as SeaWorld tries to portray.

Unlike Shamu, this issue isn't black and white.

Still, I think society is evolving to a point where confining whales in small spaces is generally frowned upon.

That's not going to be an easy transition for SeaWorld. The company's brand is whale-centric.

It wouldn't be any easier than asking Disney to drop Mickey.

Then again, Mickey isn't drowning anyone.

I have confidence that the creative minds at SeaWorld can continue to help their park evolve.

After all, as my son said: SeaWorld wants people to feel good about coming, right, Dad?

They do indeed, son. After all, feeling good means coming back. And coming back leads to higher profits … which is what it's all about.